


Tough to be Tender

by battle_cat



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gentle Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 19:12:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7186622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/battle_cat/pseuds/battle_cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Furiosa only knows how to have rough sex. Max is determined to be sweet and gentle.</p><p>Based on an old kinkmeme prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tough to be Tender

**Author's Note:**

> So I was looking through kinkmeme prompts and I found this one and had to write it: http://madmaxkink.dreamwidth.org/450.html?thread=392386.
> 
> It doesn't really fit into the relationship trajectory of my other Max/Furiosa fics, but it was too enjoyable to pass up, so just consider it its own stand-alone thing.

She fucks like an animal. She grinds against him hard enough to make him whimper, digs nails into his back, uses teeth to draw blood and leave bruises. Legs wrapped tight around his hips, or grabbing his jacket and pulling him in, biting his mouth and making him growl and shove her against a wall, or on her knees with her ass in the air, she is always demanding _harder harder harder_. Sometimes he can’t tell if the noises coming out of her are pleasure or pain, and it’s not like he wants to hurt her but she never tells him to stop and it’s the only way she ever seems satisfied.

It’s easy, in the beginning, to get dragged along in her wake. He is feral and she knows it and she _uses_ it, making him respond in kind to bites and snarls and shoves, making him fight her and pin her and thrust into her fast and hard. And she is so intoxicating, a force of nature in human form, fury and power and liquid heat, flashing green eyes and sharp musky sweat and surging muscles, and it’s been so long, so long since he let himself get wrapped up in another person’s body like this, and he was never really a serious obstacle when there was something she was determined to get.

It takes him nearly a month of growls and slapping skin to realize that maybe that’s the only way she knows how to do it.

Any time he tries to go gentle and slow, she looks at him like a gear she hasn’t figured out how to unstick. When he leans in to trail soft kisses down her neck she sinks her teeth into his shoulder, claws at his back when he tries to hold her close.

Finally there is a night when he growls in frustration and pins her to the mattress, his weight heavy on her hips and his elbows trapping her arms at her side. She writhes and snarls low in her throat, but this is a game they’ve played before.

He looks down at her, her eyes bright, pupils wide, chest heaving and painted with sweat. After a moment of nothing happening she hisses, “What?”

He leans down to meet her mouth, pulls back sharply when she bares her teeth. “No biting,” he says. She rolls her eyes.

She looks wary when he ducks his head down again. “What are you—?” She trails off as he presses his lips softly under her jaw. He can feel her pulse pounding, her breathing shallow and fast, ready for an attack. He licks at her skin, kisses gingerly along the line of her jaw. Hears a frustrated huff of breath.

He goes back to the sensitive spot behind her ear and starts again, a slow deliberate press of lips inching down her neck, steady and firm but without any teeth. She is practically vibrating underneath him, muscles tensed.

There’s sweat beaded in the spot on her chest where neck tendons and collarbones meet. He gives it a long, slow lick.

“What are you…?” It comes out on the barest whisper of breath this time. When he meets her gaze again her expression is confused and maybe just the tiniest bit unsure.

“‘S okay.” He adjusts a little so he can brush his fingers over her face. Her gaze follows his hand suspiciously. He strokes a thumb along her cheekbone. “Won’t hurt you. Promise.”

Her brow wrinkles, as if this must be a riddle, a trick. The tips of his fingers trace over her temple, through the soft bristles of her cropped hair. She snorts in frustration, twists her body under him.

“D’you want me to let you up?”

“I want you to fuck me,” she grits out.

“Mm. We’ll get there.” He’s still stroking her hair, tracing a slow arc with his thumb over the skin of her forehead. He can feel the muscle in her temple that moves when she clenches her jaw.

He leans down and brushes his lips against hers. Nudges her mouth open. Pulls just out of range when her teeth reach for his bottom lip. “Easy.” Contact again; a rough exhale as he sucks gently on her bottom lip, as the tip of his tongue slips inside her mouth and no teeth sink down to meet it.

He shifts a little, sliding up on his elbows so he can kiss her properly. He knows she knows how to, but where they end up is often somewhere closer to chewing. But she doesn’t bite him now as he slowly explores her mouth, her lips pressing back tentatively against his as if she’s learning how to do it all over again.

One of his hands is on her shoulder; the other drifts up to cup her jaw. Does she even remember, the way his hands fit around her head when his blood was running into her? He remembers the way she clutched at his jacket when she told him to bring them home. She wasn’t fighting him then.

As he kisses he lets his hand trace down her neck, her shoulder, over the hard muscle of her shortened arm and back up again, fingers drifting along the ridge of her collarbone. She is starting to feel infinitesimally less like a steel cable ready to snap underneath him.

He lets his mouth drift, brushing kisses over her cheeks, her forehead, the tip of her nose. Her eyes are closed, lips parted and panting slightly. She has gone very still.

He risks lifting his weight off her a little to press his mouth into the hollow between her breasts. She makes a tiny, high moan. With his face pressed flush against her chest like this he can feel that she’s trembling. Her breathing sounds raw in his ears.

“You’re shaking,” he whispers. “D’you want me to stop?”

She shakes her head no, eyes squeezed shut.

He kisses the inside of her breast, nuzzles into that soft secret spot and gets another gasping little moan out of her. God, he wants to hear that again. He wants to find all her hidden tender spots between the steel and fire and be good to them.

She straight up whimpers when his mouth closes over a nipple, not biting or sucking but just a wet press of lips and a teasing tongue. At some point his arms have shifted so that he is closer to holding her than to holding her down, and she sighs and arches against him. He lets his hands roam, stroking over her side, her hip, her belly, feeling her slowly relax under him. His hips are still pressed against hers, and his cock is getting distractingly hard.

When he comes up to kiss her lips again her eyes are still squinched closed, her breathing hot and rough. But she meets his mouth eagerly this time, whines out a little cry when his fingers brush through her pubic hair.

Unf, he wants to use his mouth on her, spread her open and suck and lick until she comes apart for him. But he wants to be able to see her face more. He settles for licking his fingers and sliding them between her legs, and the sharp little _ah_ she makes when his fingers nudge down into wetness is entirely worth it. The round _ohh_ when he finds her clit even more so. He’s stopped kissing her, entirely distracted by watching her face.

He’s made her come plenty of times while he’s buried deep inside her, but there’s something about just watching her gasp and flush while he strokes her slowly to orgasm that’s just _unbearably_ hot. 

He wishes she would open her eyes.

“Can I see you?” he asks, a rough whisper, and then she does open her eyes, and she looks completely disarmed and a little confused and _scared_.

“Max—”

“Mm. It’s okay. You’re okay,” he soothes, curling his free arm around her, letting his forehead rest against hers. Her hand strokes into his hair, keeping him close.

When she comes it’s almost silent, a gasp that seems swallowed up inside her before it can escape. She’s so wet around his fingers, and he can feel himself leaking against her lower belly.

This time she seeks out his mouth, tilting her head to find his lips, and then she’s breathing, “Get inside me,” between kisses and opening her legs to wrap around his hips.

He swipes the head of his cock between her folds before pushing in slowly, a steady rock of his hips going a little deeper with each thrust until he bottoms out inside her. She curls around him, letting him go slow and gentle while she moans against his neck.

“Feels good…feels so good, Max…” she sighs, and then he gets his fingers on her clit again and there are only sounds coming out of her mouth.

He can’t quite hold out long enough to make her come again before he does, but she’s on the verge when he spills inside her and he keeps touching her and she keeps her legs wrapped tight around him, high desperate gasps of breath coming out of her now, and then a single sharp cry and he can feel her muscles clench and flutter around his softening cock. He’s not about to get hard again but it sends a shivery pulse through him all the same.

She has her face pressed against the side of his neck and he feels wetness there, and then her next breath is a gasping, shaky sob. He wraps his arms around her and holds her close. He can feel her trying to hold back whatever wants to fight its way out of her and silently failing.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she chokes out, tears smearing against his neck.

“Mm. Don’t be sorry.” He holds onto her and strokes her hair.

She’s digging her nails into his back again, but this time he finds he doesn’t mind.


End file.
